


Welcome home, darling.

by StrawberryLane



Series: Lazy mornings 'verse [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Returning Home, Welcome Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: Porthos really should be away travelling more often. Coming home is half the fun, after all.





	Welcome home, darling.

**Author's Note:**

> This is very short, but my imagination just kind of quit in the middle of writing, so this is all we're getting, I'm afraid.

"So what have you been up to whilst I've been gone?" Porthos asks as they lay in bed a couple of hours after Athos initiated the make out session that turned into a 'welcome-home-fuck'. Porthos really should be away travelling more often. Coming home is half the fun, after all.

"Well," begins Athos and levels Porthos with a look that is dry as dust. "Let's see. Not much. I fucked the milkman, had a couple of _riveting_ conversations with Richelieu about the state of our garden – apparently it's a disgrace to the entire street – and have generally just been plodding along. Nothing too exciting I'm afraid."

Looking up from where he's been trailing kisses along Athos' neck, Porthos snorts. "And was the milkman any good?" he asks, laughing.

Athos' mouth twitches in answer as he rolls them over so that he's on top. "Nowhere near your level, my darling," he says, bringing their mouths together in a heated kiss.

*

While he's entirely up to the idea of travelling more often if the welcome home he got today is any indication of the welcome homes he'll be getting in the future, Porthos truly is a homebody at heart. He likes going out as much as the next guy, don't get him wrong. It's just he does it much more rarely these days. He used to do it a lot more, but since meeting Athos he's become someone who much rather spends time on his own sofa, watching crap telly and cuddling with his annoyed – "I'm trying to read, here," – boyfriend.

Honestly, he doesn't mind at all.

So once they've showered and gotten dinner underway – steak and homemade chips, because they're nothing if not classy – they cuddle up on the couch, just relishing in having each other close after three weeks of separation. "How was Shanghai?" Athos murmurs, his hands absent-mindedly moving across Porthos' arms.

"Huge. Absolutely huge and wonderful. We've got to go together one day."

Athos hums. "Maybe."

"You'd love it. Sure, the flight was miserable, but the city itself was so worth it."

"I was under the impression you were there for work," Athos teases and Porthos laughs.

"Can't work all day, that's no fun."

"No," Athos agrees, even though they both know he's the type of person who could work all day and all night without even noticing if Porthos wasn't around to drag him home from time to time. "So, how did business go?" he continues, startling slightly at the shrill sound of the timer in the kitchen going off.

"Well," Porthos follows his boyfriend into the kitchen, watching from the doorway as Athos removes the chips from the oven. "It went all right. Treville's happy, anyway."

"That's good," says Athos as he removes the plates holding their steaks from where they've been keeping warm on the stove, putting them on the table. He then plates the chips and gestures for Porthos to get the wine. "Tada," he mutters, waving his hands in the general direction of their dinner table. "Dinner is served."

Porthos grins. "Thanks, darling."

They eat in companionable silence, Porthos scoffing down food as if he's been starving for several weeks. "What?" he asks when Athos frowns at him from over the wine bottle, his cheeks bulging out. "I've missed your cooking."

Athos chuckles. "I'm a shit cook and we both know it. And I know for a fact you've eaten like a king all the time, or did you forget that you're one of, let's see, three people I follow on instagram?"

"And I'm deeply honoured for being among those sacred three," Porthos assures him, grinning wildly.

Athos grins right back. "Piss off," he says, but there's no heat in his voice. "Finish your dinner."

"Yes, sir," Porthos mumbles through another mouthful of chips.

Travelling is fun, he thinks, but the best thing about it all really is coming home to Athos and his shitty home-cooked meals and their bed. God, he’s missed their bed.

 


End file.
